The Morning After
by Allison Wolfe
Summary: Dean lies to John about an injury from a hunt the night before, until it becomes life threathening.  Hurt!Dean  Worried!John. Pre-season
1. Chapter 1

**The Morning After **

**Disclaimer: **Kripke and the CW own the Winchester boys. I only own the Story and any made up characters.

**A/N:** Thank you for the reviews. I will try and update and soon as I can, but with school and band it will take awhile. Thanks for the support and I would love to hear any ideas or comments on this story.

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Dean woke up around 7:30. He knew his father was awake by the fact that his bed was empty. He slowly rolled out of bed and made his way to the bathroom. He closed the door, walked over to the shower and turned it all the way on hot. He turned around and walked over to the sink, waiting for the shower to heat up. He looked up at his reflection in the mirror and said, "You don't look 22."

He removed his shirt and his pants, noting the new bruises. He remembered the huge fight with the Poltergeist last night. He quickly noted the wound. It was bleeding, yet again. Dean knew that when he got out he would have to clean it out and stitch it up.

Dean hopped into the shower, feeling relief that the warm water was loosening up his muscles. He knew he would have to tell his father about the wound, but as long as he was okay now, Dean felt no need in alarming his father. So he locked the pain away, behind a closed locked door. Hurrying, Dean got in and out within minutes. He dried off as much as possible, without bleeding all over the towel, and got into his boxers and jeans.

Dean sat himself down on the toilet and started to address the wound. He noticed that it was already inflamed, 'great, fucking great. An infection already?' he thought to himself. Now it was a matter of time before his dad would find out. At that Dean decide there was no point in stitching the wound if it was infected, so he cleaned out as much of the puss as possible, before calling it quits and putting on the gauze.

Before Dean left the bathroom, he put on his t-shirt and got his socks and shoes on. 'If I am going to try and hide and injury from dad, better have enough shirts to cover the blood that's gonna seep out.' With that thought he grabbed a long sleeve shirt and his denim button down shirt.

Dean walked out of the bathroom and into the kitchen. He walked over to the cabinet and grabbed a bowl and a spoon and went to have a seat across from his father. He noticed John push the cereal and milk to Dean's side of the Table. Without speaking he graciously accepted them from his father and processed to make himself breakfast.

John noticed Dean's hiss of pain when he lent forward to grab the milk and cereal. That spiked a twinge of worry in John. He knew that if Dean was hurt he would tell him, but he also knew the many times Dean had hide an injury from him. With that thought John knew what he had to do. "Son, Are you okay?"

Dean stopped eating for a minute and looked up. "Uh….yeah, I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

"Dean, I need you to be completely honest with me. Did you get hurt during the hunt yesterday?"

Shit. Dean knew without a doubt that his father must have seen right through that lie. What should I do? "I promise you dad, if I was hurt, I'd tell you."

"Okay, if you insist that you're fine, then finish up your breakfast and meet me outside in 5 minutes."

"Yes, sir." Shit. What now? Should I tell him the truth? Will he be mad that I lied to his face? No. No, I can't. I guess its training for me.

John walked over to the front door and grabbed his jacket and gun. He carefully slid on his jacket, being careful not to unset his bruised arm. He then tucked his gun into the back of his pants, just in case. Going to grab the door, he looked back over at his son. 'Why wouldn't he just tell me he was hurt?' He breathed a sigh of frustration, and then opened the door and left his son to finish up.

Dean knew that his father would find out soon enough, but as long he didn't have to tell his father that he lied to him, he was fine.

He through his bowl and spoon into the sink, breaking the bowl into a thousand pieces. He was so angry that he didn't even care. He walked over to the door and slipped on his jacket. Without even stopping to grab his gun, he opened the door and stormed out.

"What took you so long, son?" John questioned. He knew Dean wouldn't tell him, and the thought of his son being hurt sickened him. "I want you to do 30 push-ups, 50 crunches and run 2 miles. Understand?"

"Yeah, whatever." Dean barked.

John blinked in surprise. His son almost never spoke to him like that. "What was that?"

"Nothing." He said looking down at the ground, not wanting to see his fathers' disappointment. "Maybe you should get a hearing aid." Dean whispered under his breathe.

"Listen, Dean, I don't give a shit that you in a bad mood. You said that you're fine, so don't give me attitude about it. Have I made myself clear?" John spit in his face.

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. It won't happen again." Dean begged.

With that John grabbed Dean's biceps and pulled him into a hug. "I forgive you, Dean." He whispered into Dean's ear. He then pulled Dean away. "Now, 30 push-ups, 20 crunches, run 2 miles."

Dean nodded in response and got to the push-ups. He finished up the push-ups and went to start the crunches. 'If this doesn't kill me, then running 2 miles will.' He got half way threw the crunches when he started to feel something warm running down his side. 'Okay, this is a bad idea, I think now is a good time to tell dad the truth.'

John watched as Dean finished up the last of the crunches. Dean looked as white as a piece of paper. His breathing also sounded raspy. "Dean, I think you need to sit down. You don't look so good."

"No, I'm fine just a bit sore that's all." Dean slurred.

"Come here, son." Why did he have to push him this much? Why did Dean not tell him the truth from the beginning? "Dean, what's up? You're not acting like yourself." Dean went to intervene but John cut him off. "Your pale and you slurring, tell me this instant. Are you hurt?"

John noticed Dean start to sway, so he took hold of Dean's shoulders. "Dean?"

"I…I'm…um…I'm fi…" Dean started before he passed out and drifted into unconsciousness.

John watched as Dean fought to stay awake. His eyes fluttering from open to close. John carefully lowered his son to the ground, making sure he didn't hurt Dean anymore then he was.


	2. Chapter 2

**A.N. Sorry I haven't updated this story in awhile, I have been really busy with school, indoor and getting ready for college.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of Supernatural, although I wish I did. They belong to Kripke and CW.**

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**Then **

_John watched as Dean fought to stay awake. His eyes fluttering from open to close. John carefully lowered his son to the ground, making sure he didn't hurt Dean anymore then he was. _

**Now**

As John was lowering his now unconscious son to the ground, his mind started to go through panic mode. He was trying to understand what had just happen. One minute Dean training, doing crunches and running laps and the next he was stuttering and passing out. As his panicking started to subside he started on his basics. Check pulse and check for any injuries. He started check Deans pulse when he noticed it was very weak and fast. John went right into father mode.

"Dean, son, wake up!" He was lightly tapping Dean's cheeks trying to get him to rouse. Although nothing happened, no flinch or any attempt to wake up.

Concern was now all over John's face. He started lifting Dean's shirt, looking for any injuries he might have been hiding. John's eyes quickly stopped at the sight of the bloody bandage.

"God damn it, Dean! When did this happen?" He said, knowing that there wouldn't be a response but still wanting to ask none the less.

"Um, the l-last hunt a-a-agai-nst t-the po-olterg-giest." John's face turned two shades of red. He was so angry that his son had not told him about this injury when they finished the hunt. Instead his son brushed it off as nothing of any concern and look where we are now. Then his anger turned from anger that his son lied to anger that he didn't force Dean to let him check him over in the first place. This was all his fault and he could have stopped it from ever happening in the first place.

"Okay, son." Dean was closing his eyes. Not good. "Dean. Son, stay with me. Keep your eyes open." He was so fucked. That's when soldier John needed to step in for John was too weak at the moment. "Son." He barked. "You wake up now. Dean, that's an order! You hear me? Wake Up!" Dean's eyes shot open.

"Okay Dean, I'm going to pick you up, okay? You keep those beautiful green eyes open, No dying on me, okay. Not now and not ever." Dean just nodded, not having the energy to say anything.

Okay, think John. Blood loss, in and out of conscious and possible infect. He definitely needs to go to a hospital. John put one hand under Dean's knees and the other behind his back by his arms. He gently lifted Dean off the ground, producing a whimper from the unconscious bundle in his arms. Once he was standing again, he took Dean and ran to the back of the impala and slide him into the backseat. He then ran to the driver's side and quickly put the keys into the ignition and sped away to the nearest hospital.

Thinking to himself he tried to remember the quickest route to the hospital. Looking in the rear view mirror he noticed Dean's eyes slide shut. "Dean, open your eyes."

"'m 'kay, dad." Still trying to convince John that he was fine and that he didn't need a hospital.

After what seemed like forever, he finally pulled into the ER. He threw the car into park, ran around to the back to retrieve Dean and ran inside. "Help! Help me!"

"Sir, what happened?" A doctor asked, while all the other doctors and nurses ran over to John and Dean.

"My son, he's hurt. I think he was stabbed." He needed a lie and fast. "I came home to him like this. I was out of town the past few days." His attention drifted to the doctors taking Dean away. "He seemed fine. Then he just keeled over."

"Okay, we'll do everything we can. I just want you to know your son is in good hands." The doctor tried to comfort John. "While you wait for you son to get out of surgery, I'm going to need you to fill out these forms."

John grabbed a seat and started on the papers. Taking a break ever few minutes to look at the door, hoping and waiting for the doctor to come back out saying that his son is fine. Finally after what like seemed like forever, he finished up the paper work and turned it in. As he was walking back to take his seat, he noticed a doctor. The same doctor that was talking to him early. The doctor who was treating his son.

"Doc, what's the news with my son? Is he okay?" There was a moment's hesitation and then the doctor started.

"He's stable now. We did lose him twice. We noticed the internal bleeding. We also noticed a serious infection due to the wound. That also explains the fever and the reason he passed out." The doctor took a pause to take a breath. "Your son is very lucky. The knife was inches away from hitting his lung. We started him on an antibiotic, so that should treat the infection. He will be on constant monitoring. We are a bit concerned about the blood loss mixed with him dying twice during surgery. "

"Thank you doctor for taking care of my son. When can I go and see him?"

"You're welcome, sir, and follow me." John and the doctor walked back to Dean's room. Once they got there the doctor turned to John. "Now, it's going to be a little uneasy to see your son like this, but I ensure you he will be fine. I hope you find who did this so they can be punished appropriately."

"Thank you, Doc." He nodded and then walked into Dean's room.

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**A.N. Please review. Let me know what you think of my story and let me know what you would like to see in the following chapters. **


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